Corner Store Jazz
by Vestque the Artist
Summary: Owen Cromwell wants a pack of Ciggs, but how easy will it be when you don't look a day over eighteen? Complete. One shot. Takes place in Blood Lust Universe.


Hello, All! As promised, here it is, my next Oneshot! This is featuring Owen, from my Blood lust Series. Unlike my other one shots, this one is actually apart of the Blood Lust series, but is just a little segment of it (A deleted scene if you will). So, in order to read this _and _understand Owen's role (As in what he has to do with the Ninja Turtles), you'll have to read Blood Lust, other wise, to you he'll just be another heroic vampire that can't get a cigarette :D. Enjoy! (Oh, btw, this part of the story comes from the last chapter in, Blood Lust: The Derivation.)

Disclaimer:…I Do own Owen! He is mine!!! However, I do not own the Ninja Turtles. (They really don't show up in this fic, but you can't blame me for covering my bases.)

Corner Store Jazz

Owen stepped into the bright light of the nearby corner store. He had peripherally picked up the store's name, but had forgotten it instantly. It didn't matter what the damn store was called, anyways.

All he knew was that he needed some ciggs, and he needed them now.

Straightening his posture, he stepped up to the counter.

He knew the drill.

It was hard being such a young looking vampire these days. It seemed that with the newer and newer times, it got harder and harder for him to get cigarettes. And now, "over twenty-one" signs were everywhere, hindering him even further. The most he could do was try to look "older" letting his above average height tell the story as well. He was an easy 6'1", which made it a little easier when it came to handling corner storeowners.

But not much.

"Can I help you?" The fast, accented words from the man behind the counter brought Owen's attention to the task at hand. Standing tall, he nodded, speaking for the first time since entering. "Yes, I would like a pack of Camels." He pointed to the adjacent display case. All the while he kept his face low, hidden under the brim of his baseball cap as he kept his voice casual.

Besides, he was doing nothing wrong. He was _definitely_ old enough to get a pack of ciggs. The hard part was in just getting the man to believe that he was older than he looked, which he was, and then he would be Scot-free.

However, that part was deemed hard for a reason.

Owen watched through his lashes as the man retrieved a package of heaven before placing it on the counter.

They were almost his, he could feel it!

"Hey, you have ID!?"

Never mind.

Owen looked up, his cover blown at the single question. He frowned lightly at how suddenly difficult this task had become. He shook his head.

"No." He was never a liar, and he sure as hell would not start now.

Yet, sometimes he was tempted. A fake ID would have been the easiest answer, but once again, he would not stoop so low.

Besides, it was not as if he was breaking the law or anything.

However, it seemed as though his simple but truthful answer would not cut the cake this time. He rolled his eyes as the man looked him over with a glace of annoyance.

"You not Twenty-one! We only serve cigarette if you Twenty-one! You are not twenty-one so get out!" The middle-easterner's voice was booming as he pointed to the yellow sign in front of the cash register. Owen turned his gaze to the sign now, frowning as he recognized it immediately.

"We ID" It read.

Oh, how he hated and loathed that sign!

Well, if the direct approach didn't work, there were _other _ways…

"Can I have the cigarettes….please?" He frowned as he forced the politeness into his words, emphasizing the last one with a slight blink. A plea from Owen was rare, but this was a special case.

He would get his cigarettes, one way or the other. However, his efforts were deemed hopeless at the man's harsh words.

"No, mister. No ID, No cigarettes! Can you not read?!" The man seemed to go from annoyed to rage in microseconds as he yelled at the offending customer.

"If you don't want anything else, then get out!"

Owen resisted a snarl, but he was determined not to lose his temper. He took a breath, willing his mind to relax. Calmly, collectedly, he talked, it being all that he could do at the moment.

"I have the money, and I _assure_ you I am of legal age to buy cigarettes. So, Please, just-"

"If you do not leave, then, I will make you!"

Owen's hand froze mid pocket as the man went to step from behind the counter. His mind flashed in near panic at the man's slow decent. His chances of getting his cigarettes were looking slimmer and slimmer with each of the store owner's steps. He sighed, eyeing the precious sticks that still lay on the counter.

He hoped it wouldn't come down to this, but had to do what he had to do.

With a speed faster than speed itself he grabbed the small package before making a beeline for the door. The owner blinked in his wake at the suddenly empty store before bursting to motion himself.

That little thief!

He ran to the door, but he knew the kid was long gone. Cursing in a language that in no way was English, he turned back inside, anger brewing in his heart at the occurrence.

That kid had stolen the cigarettes!

However, his mind froze as his eyes fell on the once empty counter.

Green bills and a few cents occupied the counter, their presences alone stopping the enraged man in mid-thought.

He had not seen the kid put them there, but there they were. He walked up to the mysterious money, counting it with trained eyes. He blinked.

He did not believe it.

"…Exact change."

-

Owen blinked, his eyes wide from the narrowly avoided confrontation.

That had been close.

However, he still came out with the spoils, just like always.

Smiling, he eyed the white package in his hand.

The camel on its front smiled back.

He patted his pocket and smiled when he found nothing.

The mission had been a complete success.

Sneakily, he had paid for the cigarettes, leaving the money behind as soon as he bolted through the door, paying for the goods in full.

He was no thief,

Just an a thousand year old vampire who _loved _his cigarettes.

Yet, it was all in the store corner jazz. They would never understand that, nor would he ever understand them. That was just the way it was, and like jazz, it was the way things just had to be.

Sitting, he smiled before taking out one of the sin sticks and placing it between his thin lips. The silver lighter's flame caressed the end as he inhaled, the smoke flowing down his throat like a piece of heaven.

Making it all worth while.

Corner Store Jazz. It was the way that things just had to be.

He puffed in the quiet of the room…it was then that his mind fell back to the events that would occur that night.

Would he make Donatello his pupil, teaching him the ways of survival for their kind?

He exhaled, the ring of smoke rising as he did.

He just didn't know….

-

A/N: Not meant to be racist at all, if anything this is meant to be a type of social commentary, making fun of stereotypes and of the problems of today, just in case you wanted to know. Also, I made the age limit to get cigarettes Twenty one, it was just easier that way. Sorry for any misconceptions, but this is a fan fiction, Lol.

BTW, it ends that way because it links right back into the story with Owen in the last chapter of Blood Lust: The Derivation. Otherwise, it would have ended it differently…

-

Hmm…_rubs chin thoughtfully…_interesting. Very interesting. But it's not about what _I_ think, it's about _you guys!!!_ So R and R, tell me what you thought! I'll be waiting…( XD )


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